


The Hoof of God

by Alona



Category: Le Comte de Monte-Cristo | Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
Genre: Gen, Goats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 03:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alona/pseuds/Alona
Summary: Gaspard Caderousse, Benedetto, and a goat farm in hell.





	The Hoof of God

"By the way, little Benedetto, you haven't milked the nannies today." 

Benedetto tilted his stool back and leaned as languorously as he could against the front of the weathered farmhouse. His makeshift finery suffered somewhat from the contact with the dusty wall. "Why don't we have a servant to do it?" he complained. 

"Well, another end of the month like the last one, and we'll see." Caderousse shrugged. "Or we won't see, if we don't have milk to make cheese, which, clever boy that you are, you'll see we won't have if you don't – "

"Why can't you milk the goats?"

"Oh! An old man like me! Are you kidding? The little prince! And can he make the cheese? And can he cook? And can he do anything at all but come up with useless schemes for getting out of this place?" 

"Maybe they wouldn't be so useless if you helped me out once in a while!" An overly affectionate black and white buck had scrambled up onto the porch, and Benedetto hurriedly set his stool back down to fend it off with the tip of the fashionable walking stick he had carved for himself. "Listen, I nearly had it last time. That man, the one who keeps an eye on us for the thrice-damned Count – "

Caderousse made a choking noise and flapped a hand urgently at his young companion. "None of that, now, little one. We won't get out of here by blaspheming against him." 

Benedetto threw up his hands and his walking stick in frustration; the cane sailed a good way out into the farmhouse's little garden. "Oh, shut up! He isn't a god, you old fool."

"Well, be careful, anyway," Caderousse grumbled. "You were saying?"

"That man who watches us – I climbed up and hid myself on the back of his carriage and I nearly got through the forest before I was caught." 

"Oh, enough, enough. We're here, we may as well get used to it. Come in and have some dinner, why don't you? It's cursedly hot out here." 

The black and white buck had, against all expectation, brought Benedetto his stick back. It seemed disposed to return the favor Benedetto had granted it by smacking him with the cane repeatedly. 

"Oh, all right." With a sigh, he rose and followed his unwilling cohabitant inside. "But there'd better be fresh bread, and that pâté I like, that goes so well with figs..."


End file.
